Morning.
“Wake up, Wanderer!” Anatoliy said, loudly. “Come on, rise and shine, sleepyhead!”
Grigori stirred. Morning, already? No! He sat up quickly, instantly awake.
“Morning? You kept watch the rest of the night?" Grigori looked at Anatoliy, confused.
“Sure. It wasn't a problem. You looked so restful, asleep. I let you stay asleep. I was fine, we had no more problems last night." Anatoliy's response seemed so simple, so matter-of-fact, it took a few moments for the response to register with Grigori.
“You want some breakfast?”
Grigori's mind finally gave up, and he just stared at Anatoliy. “Breakfast?”
“Yeah, breakfast. First meal of the day. Used to be cereal before all this war and ruin. Now, it's usually just cooked rat." Anatoliy had set up a some kind of stand and on it were two rats, well-cooked. A simple meal, one that had sustained Grigori in the past.
“Yeah.” he said, sitting properly. “Thanks.”
Anatoliy lifted the stick that had skewered the rats, and dividing it in two, with a rat on each stick. He offered the one to Grigori, who took it and started to eat.
“A good morning." Anatoliy said, between bites. “Even the sky has cleared for us.”
Grigori looked up. The sky had cleared, and was now showing the bright blue of the early morning. He looked around, and could now see the ruins of Lermontov in the distance, even the smoke from the entrance fires which was slowly rising in the cold morning air.
After finishing their food, the two travellers kicked dirt over the fire, and started to pack up. Grigori still wondered where this man had come from, where he was going.
“What are your plans, Sunrise?”
“Oh, I don't really know. Maybe head north-east, towards Mineral'nye Vody. That seems like a good direction to go." Anatoliy looked up in the direction he was referring to.
“Hey, that's good! I was hoping to go there. I've got someone I need to meet there. You'd like him, a true Russian. I call him Worker.”
“Okay. That sounds like a deal. Let's go!" Anatoliy seemed full of energy, like the daylight had recharged him somehow.
They grabbed their backpacks and set off, towards the east of Lermontov. They would skirt the city, and head north for a while, and follow the line of the nearby hills to their right. It would bring them near Zheleznovodsk, and there they could join a path that went off east, before heading north again after going over the hills. It took them an hour to get to Zheleznovodsk. They sky had brightened, and it seemed like it was going to be a good day.
By mid-morning, they had crossed the hills away from Zheleznovodsk, and could see the former city of Inozemtsevo to their east. They had said little on their journey. The climb away from Zheleznovodsk was steep and tricky in places. The road surface was broken and decayed, and in some places did not even exist any more. They paused at a corner, where they could see the city quite clearly. Anatoliy stared out at the expanse of landscape around the city. He scratched his stubble on his cheek, and looked like he was troubled.
“Wanderer...” He started to say. “Wanderer, I'm going to have to change my plans. I need to get to Inozemtsevo instead."
Grigori looked at him. Anatoliy seemed distracted, almost unsettled. “Why, Sunrise?” That was all Grigori could ask.
“I just need to see someone, that's all." Anatoliy turned to him. He placed a hand on Grigori's shoulder. “You'll be safe from here on. I am sure of that. Most of the wild beasts live in those hills,” he pointed to where they had come from, “and they tend to head down to Lermontov, not north. The hills by Novoterskiy deter them from going north." Anatoliy smiled. Grigori felt somehow reassured by Anatoliy's words, and held out his hand. Anatoliy took it and they shook.
“It was good to meet you, Sunrise.”
“And it was an honour to meet you, Wanderer. Write a poem about me." Anatoliy relaxed his grip, and laughed. “Let us go now, that we may get to our destinations before dark.”
With that, they started to head down the hill, Anatoliy immediately leaving the road to follow a narrow path that seemed to head to Inozemtsevo. Grigori remained on the road and would follow it for another mile before turning north to Mineral'nye Vody. He turned and saw Anatoliy heading through the grassland, and Anatoliy looked back at him, and cupped his hand to his mouth.
“Hey Wanderer!" He shouted. “One thing. I almost forgot. When you get to Mineral'nye Vody, look up a man called Uchitel. He's a wise man, believe every word he says.”
“Uchitel? What kind of a stupid name is that?" Grigori shouted back.
“Uchitel." Anatoliy repeated, louder this time. “It means 'Teacher', or master. He knows good things, maybe he might just help you too." He paused for a moment. “Good-bye, Wanderer!" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away.
Grigori turned to the road, thought for a moment, and turned back. Anatoliy had gone. Not just gone, like out of sight, but vanished. The path he was on was through open grassland, and there was no way he could have made it to the tree-line in the distance. Grigori stared for what must have been a few minutes.
There was nothing he could do about Anatoliy, so he turned and headed for Mineral'nye Vody.